Showing posts with label feel good movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feel good movies. Show all posts

Monday, November 30, 2009

Feel Good Movies: Stephen Chow Battles Bad Guys and Books in "Fight Back to School"

Chow Sing-Sing (Stephen Chow), on the verge of being disqualified from the police force, Special Duties Unit (SDU), is sent on an undercover mission to recover a senior officer's stolen pistol. Unfortunately, Sing-Sing is to pose as a student, and while he can brave terrorists and gunfights, he finds the idea of returning to school absolutely horrific. Before long, finding a missing gun takes a backseat to Sing-Sing's frequent bouts with trouble, as he falls asleep during lectures and typically skips his homework. The cop finds solace in Miss Ho (Sharla Cheung Man), and Sing-Sing quickly falls for the sweet, compassionate woman, who becomes his tutor. Partnered with another undercover officer, "Uncle" Tat (Ng Man-Tat), posing as the school janitor and also as Sing-Sing's father, Sing-Sing stumbles upon an arms smuggling case.

Fight Back to School (1991) is a perfect example of Hong Kong comedian Stephen Chow's brand of comedy, known as mo lei tau, which roughly translates to, "Makes no sense." While some of this particular style of comedy doesn't quite work for English-speaking audiences (especially the great deal of word play within the dialogue), the absurd manner in which many of the scenes play out is amusing for viewers of any language. For instance, Tat, in an effort to stop smoking, often chews on a stick or a hairbrush. He even replicates exhaling smoke, and at one point in the film, with no explanation given, he actually breathes out smoke. Chow's comedy also includes classic slapstick. Sing-Sing is actually Tat's superior, but with Tat playing his father, he must display his authority in front of others. As soon as people's backs are turned, however, the two men scuffle like children.

At its heart, the movie is about the underdog rising above seemingly unbeatable odds. Chow shines at playing such characters. Even when he's playing unlikable men, such as 1996's The God of Cookery, chances are that he will see the error of his ways and will redeem himself. The romance between Sing-Sing and Miss Ho is cute, another trademark of Chow's films. Many of the actor's leading ladies have been excellent, noteworthy actresses, such as Brigitte Lin (1992's Royal Tramp II), Karen Mok (1995's A Chinese Odyssey I and II), Gong Li (1993's Flirting Scholar), Anita Mui (1992's Justice, My Foot!), and Carina Lau (1996's Forbidden City Cop).

Fight Back to Sch
ool was followed by two sequels: Fight Back to School II (1992), in which Sing-Sing has to pose as a student once again, and Fight Back to School III (1993), which drops the "school," but does follow Sing-Sing going undercover. While Cheung has starred in quite a few movies with Chow (and appears in both sequels), actor Ng Man-Tat has had the privilege of being Chow's co-star the most frequently, including the God of Gamblers sequels (1990 and 1991), Tricky Brains (1991), Love on Delivery (1994), The Lucky Guy (1998), and King of Comedy (1999). Watching the two actors together is a treat!

In 1990, Chow starred in All for the Winner, a parody of Wong Jing's very popular 1989 gambling film, God of Gamblers (starring Chow Yun-Fat). Chow became a star in Hong Kong virtually overnight when his film proved just as successful as the film it was making fun of. By 1992, Chow was so popular that he had starred in the top five grossing films of that year. He broke box office records in 2001 with his charming, effects-laden Shaolin Soccer (also starring Vicki Zhao Wei and, not surprisingly, Ng Man-Tat). Though his record was broken the following year with Infernal Affairs (remade in America in 2006 as The Departed, directed by Martin Scorsese), Chow was the champ again in 2004 with his outstanding action epic, Kung Fu Hustle, for which he finally achieved fame in the U.S.

Friday, November 27, 2009

An Ice Cream War Leads to a Meaningful Life in "Comfort and Joy"

Scottish filmmaker Bill Forsyth's quirky comedies Gregory's Girl (1981) and Local Hero (1983) made him a critics' favorite. So, it was quite a surprise when this follow-up effort garnered lukewarm reviews. I think Comfort and Joy is a much warmer, funnier film than its predecessors (though not funny in a laugh-out-loud way). And I put no stock in those bland reviews, such as the one in which Variety made disparaging remarks about its “conventional plot.” Conventional? Just how many movies have been made about warring ice cream companies?

Bill Paterson stars as Alan, a Glasgow radio disc jockey whose comfortable life receives a sudden jolt when his kleptomaniac girlfriend Maddy (Eleanor David) leaves him shortly before Christmas. After four years of living together, she starts packing one evening and explains to Alan casually: “I meant to tell you ages ago.”

Alan is devastated. His best friend Colin (Patrick Malahide) tries to convince him that he has been “handed a new life.” So, when a girl in a Mr. Bunny ice cream truck smiles at him, Alan follows her—only to see the vehicle attacked by masked men with bats. The Mr. Bunny employees repel their assailants with ice cream and syrup, although one masked man pauses during his escape to ask Alan to broadcast a radio dedication to his mother.

Alan learns that the attackers work for Mr. McCool, a rival ice cream company. He soon finds himself acting as a mediator between warring factions. It’s a role that gives a new purpose to his life. Or, as Alan explains to his boss: “I wasn't myself before, but you thought I was myself. But now, I am myself. Or very nearly. My life was the wrong flavor. I was raspberry when I should have been vanilla.”

Bill Paterson's charming performance, Forysth's quirky characters, and the unexpected unraveling of the plot blend together to create a consistently amusing picture. Its greatest strength, however, lies in the humor created by Forysth's central theme: Nothing is as it seems. Forsyth starts by showing us an apparently happy couple, but later reveals that one of them has been planning to end the relationship for some time. In another scene, Alan spies a beautiful woman across the aisle from him in a store. He thinks she's flirting with him, but when she moves from behind the aisle, he sees that she is pushing a baby carriage and smiling at the baby strapped on her chest. The same theme even extends to the Mr. Bunny-Mr. McCool war. Charlotte, the French-speaking co-owner of Mr. Bunny has an unexpected connection with Mr. McCool, who's Italian and not Scottish (as his name implies).

Quirky films often don't stand the test of time, but this odd little movie has stayed with me over the years…right down to the catchy Mr. Bunny ice cream truck music.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

The Power of Love in "The Enchanted Cottage"

The cottage, we are told, is the only wing saved from a great estate built by an English nobleman on the New England shores. He loaned it to newlyweds and allowed them to live there for as long as they wished, a tradition maintained for over 150 years—until broken by the current owner. Even though the cottage has become overgrown with moss and ivy, it remains a flower waiting to blossom. But whereas a flower needs water and sunlight, the cottage needs to be filled with the love between two people to bring alive its enchantment.

The cottage’s owner, Mrs. Minnett (Mildred Natwick), a lonely widow, decides to rent it to a couple who will soon be married. She hires Laura Pennington (Dorothy McGuire), a young woman described as “terrible homely.” The groom-to-be, Oliver Bradford (Robert Young), finds the cottage quaint and charming, even though his fiancée is less than enthused. But before the couple can marry and move into their honeymoon home, Oliver receives his commission as a pilot and must report for duty during World War II.

When he returns a year later, his face disfigured and his right arm paralyzed from an airplane crash, Oliver is a different man—bitter and intent on keeping to himself. He ignores his family and former fiancée and moves into the cottage. He is eventually befriended by composer John Hillgrove (Herbert Marshall), who lost his sight as a pilot during World War I. Oliver also finds a kind and earnest companion in Laura, who has fallen in love with him.

The outcome of The Enchanted Cottage is never in doubt. We know that from the opening scene where John recounts the story as a tone poem at an evening gathering. Therefore, the film relies heavily on its well-drawn characters, strong performances (particularly Marshall), and a sense of “magic” created by John Cromwell’s atmospheric direction, the almost-expressionistic sets which incorporate paintings of the cottage, and Roy Webb’s lyrical music.

Cromwell makes brilliant use of lighting, especially in the shadow-filled scenes when Oliver first returns and when he locks himself in his room when his family visits (his face first revealed to the viewer by the light of a match in the blackness of the room). Cromwell’s direction is equally masterful, as when the camera makes a sweeping circular move, stopping just short of Oliver and Laura’s faces as they explain excitedly to John how they’ve “changed.” Interestingly, Cromwell was also an actor, winning a Tony in 1951 opposite Henry Fonda in Point of No Return.

Composer Roy Webb is sadly one of the least-remembered composers of the 1940s and 1950s, despite writing music for classics such as The Spiral Staircase, Notorious, Out of the Past, I Remember Mama, and several of Val Lewton’s horror films. Webb’s score for The Enchanted Cottage, which includes a lovely piano concerto, earned him the last of his Academy Award nominations (he never won).

Harriet Parsons produced The Enchanted Cottage at a time when there were few women working in film production in Hollywood. She acquired the rights to the original stage play, which was written by Arthur Wing Pinero in 1923 (and also made as a 1924 silent film). Parsons hired screenwriter DeWitt Bodeen to adapt the play (Herman Mankiewicz contributed to the script, too). It’s interesting to note the parallels between The Enchanted Cottage and Bodeen’s screenplay for Lewton’s 1944 Curse of the Cat People. Both films can be viewed as traditional fantasies or as “real events” in which the fantastical elements occur only in the minds of the characters.

While The Enchanted Cottage can’t compete with the great romantic fantasies, like A Matter of Life and Death and The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, it holds an enduring appeal. It’s a well-crafted film that leaves its viewers with a timeless message: The beauty of love is in the eye of the beholder.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Feel Good Movies: "I Hope You're Going My Way Too"

In May of 1944 the United States was embroiled in the dark days of World War II. After 2 ½ years of war, grief and fear of the future, American audiences chose as their favorite movie a little film which helped them remember what life is ultimately about -- love of God, love of people, humor in the midst of difficulty, ordinary human beings living each day as it comes. Going My Way was a Paramount film directed by Leo McCarey. McCarey was known mostly for his comedies before the 1940’s, working with such greats as the Marx Brothers, W.C. Fields and Mae West. During the 40’s, McCarey became increasingly concerned about the needs of people struggling with wartime difficulties, as well as social injustice of the economically disadvantaged.

Going My Way is the story of two Catholic priests at St. Dominic parish in a poor neighborhood. Fr. O’Malley (Bing Crosby) arrives at the parish supposedly to assist the aging pastor, Fr. Fitzgibbon (Barry Fitzgerald). In point of fact, the Bishop has plans to eventually replace Fr. Fitzgibbon, who is now in his 70’s and is reluctant to retire. Fr. Fitzgibbon has been a priest for 45 years, and it has been that long since he has seen Ireland or his now extremely elderly mother. Fr. O’Malley’s modern, easy-style personality rubs the fiery old pastor the wrong way, and Fr. O’Malley is kind to him, always careful to show respect and patience in their relationship. Throughout the movie, we meet people who cross paths with Fr. O’Malley – Carol (Jean Heather), a runaway whose future causes no end of concern for the priest, Ted Harris Jr. (James Brown), whose interest in Carol is a further cause for concern, Genevieve (Rise Stevens), whom Fr. O’Malley once loved, and a gang of neighborhood boys led by Tony Scaponi (Stanley Clements). (You have to love that name, Tony Scaponi!) A third priest, Fr. O’Dowd (Frank McHugh), the same age and modern outlook as Fr. O’Malley, turns up to be another thorn in the old pastor’s side. Fr. O’Malley deals with each person in the same spiritually dedicated, yet firm feet-on-the-ground attitude which characterizes his moral makeup. There is great humor in this story, sorrow, and an ending that is quiet and intensely moving.

Going My Way is a slice-of-life movie, simply portraying the life of a church parish day to day. There is no hurry to McCarey’s direction, allowing each scene to unfold with rich personality and character-driven plot. The audience feels as if they know the people in this film as old friends, as proven by the fact that this was the highest-grossing film of 1944. In those days, without television or re-runs, that meant that there was a lot of repeat viewing and thus more theatre tickets sold. Going My Way swept the Oscars that year, winning best picture, best director, best actor for Crosby, best supporting actor for Fitzgerald, best screenplay, best song for “Swinging On A Star” written by Van Huesen and Burke. This was in a year where competition was stiff and the movie was up against such films as Cary Grant’s Arsenic and Old Lace, Olivier’s Henry V, Garland’s Meet Me In St. Louis and Ingrid Bergman’s Gaslight, among others. Interestingly, Fitzgerald and Crosby were both nominated for best actor, as well as Fitzgerald’s nomination for best supporting actor, a double-nominee practice that was later disallowed.

The cast of Going My Way is one that shines in its individual parts. Bing Crosby is perfection as the younger priest who sings and plays piano, just as comfortable with boogie woogie as spiritual songs. His work with the neighborhood boys in turning them into a choir is beautifully portrayed. (One of the boys is Carl “Alfalfa” Switzer who we remember from Our Gang serials.) They truly sing like angels when they perform the title song with real-life opera great Rise Stevens. But it’s their performance with the song “Swinging On A Star” that audiences really loved. The film also introduced a lovely little lullaby, "Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ra", which captured the hearts of many. The part of the old pastor, Fr. Fitzgibbon, seemed tailor made for Barry Fitzgerald. Fitzgerald was 56 at the time, only 15 years older than Crosby, yet he seemed and looked very old, a testament to his acting and good makeup. He is funny and sweet in his part, and you can’t help but love him.

Wonderful Frank McHugh as Fr. O’Dowd is the perfect comic relief with his distinctive way of speaking and his famous high breathy laugh. McHugh was a member of the Irish Mafia, a spoof name for a group of actors, mostly Irish, who met fairly regularly which included James Cagney, Spencer Tracy and Pat O’Brien. Stanley Clements (Tony Scaponi) eventually replaced Leo Gorcey in the Bowery Boys last seven movies. And, if you are old enough, you may recognize James Brown (Ted Haines) as Lieutenant Masters in the Rin Tin Tin television series. The rest of the supporting cast round out this wonderful ensemble with solid performances.

In the next year, 1945, Crosby again reprised the role of Fr. O'Malley in The Bells of St. Mary's, which also starred Ingrid Bergman.  Once again the film was a huge hit, and in my opinion, Bergman still holds the gold medal as best and beautiful screen nun ever.

Director McCarey and Bing Crosby were both devout Catholics and that shows in their dedication to the film and their love for the ideals of the Church. After the war, Crosby obtained permission to screen the movie for Pope Pius XII and met with him personally. Some, particularly in our own time, pronounce this movie as saccharine and overly-idealistic. I disagree completely. It truthfully set forth ideals and the efforts of ordinary people to live up to them. Now, when scandal has marred the image of the Catholic Church, this little movie is a timely reminder that the same ideals are still there, and that 99.9% of priests are as good and dedicated as Fr. O’Malley. That is a living legacy from Leo McCarey and Bing Crosby.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Feel Good Movies: Love is the International Language in "Better Off Dead"

When choosing a "feel good" movie, it might seem odd to pick one in which the main character tries to kill himself in various ways. But Savage Steve Holland's 1985 comedy classic, Better Off Dead, is a definitive feel good feature. It's a charming, romantic tale of love lost, love found again, and crazed paperboys who will do anything for two dollars.

High school teen Lane Meyer (John Cusack) is excited about the upcoming trials for the ski team. But thanks to the obnoxious ski captain, not only does Lane not make the team, but the captain proceeds to steal his girlfriend, Beth, a girl with whom Lane is undeniably obsessed. Heartbroken, Lane attempts suicide in ridiculous ways, none, of course, which prove successful. Eventually, Lane decides that the best way to win back Beth is to ski the K-12, a notorious slope that has reportedly only been defeated by the loathsome, girlfriend-stealing ski captain. He gets help from an unlikely person, the sweet French foreign exchange student, Monique (Diane Franklin), staying at the house across the street.

In spite of Lane's death wish, Holland's movie never takes itself seriously and doesn't even play like a black comedy. One of the reasons for this is the casting of Cusack. The actor is like a young James Stewart. He's consistently delightful, and he can do no wrong (Cusack even played a hitman in 1996's Grosse Pointe Blank, and you couldn't help but love him). So his suicide attempts just seem funny, especially when they include covering himself in bedsheets, planning to set himself afire (and gingerly applying primer while at the dinner table). They're also humorous because they all invariably go awry -- just watch what happens with the aforementioned primer.

Another reason the film is lighthearted fun is its focus on Lane's perspective. Nearly the entire film is his point-of-view, with drawings that animate themselves, a ludicrously difficult math class in which Lane is the only student not in awe of the complex lecture, and dancing hamburgers that perform Van Halen songs. Worst of all, everyone is asking about Lane's recent break-up, from his math teacher to the postal carrier and even Barney from The Flintstones. In Lane's world, his oblivious mother is a horrible cook (her food sometimes crawls off the plate), his father can only relate to him with the help of a book, and his never-speaking younger brother is fruitful in all his endeavors, mostly creating functional "toys" from catalogs and cereal boxes.

But what really makes Better Off Dead work is the wonderful romance between Lane and Monique. Monique is staying with the Smiths, an abrasive mother and her neurotic son who won't leave Monique alone (she mockingly calls him "Casanova" while speaking to Lane). Monique feigns an inability to speak English -- mostly to evade discussions with the Smiths -- but this leads to fun scenes of Lane opening up to her, not realizing that she can understand him. Monique is smitten, of course, and Lane ultimately falls for her. At its very core, Better Off Dead is a love story. A peculiar love story in which a paperboy on a bike equipped with skis isn't considered abnormal and is really just a minor nuisance, but a love story nonetheless.

Holland followed this film with One Crazy Summer the next year. It was a similar movie also starring Cusack and Curtis Armstrong in prominent roles (Armstrong played Cusack's friend in Better Off Dead), with Cusack as a cartoonist (he apparently dabbled in that craft in this film). Holland himself was an animator and designed the animated sequences in both films. Better Off Dead is an affectionate, unforgettable movie, and if you ever doubt its popularity, just grab someone off the street and say, "I want my two dollars." There's a good chance that person will know what you're talking about!

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Feel Good Movies: A Life-Affirming Month is Shared in "Enchanted April"

While sitting on a bus in dreary, rainy 1920s London, Lotty Wilkins (Josie Lawrence) spies the following newspaper advertisement:

TO THOSE WHO APPRECIATE
WISTERIA AND SUNSHINE
SMALL MEDIEVAL ITALIAN CASTLE
on the shores of the Mediterranean to
be Let furnished for the month of April.



When she spots an acquaintance, Rose Arbuthnot (Miranda Richardson), reading the same ad at the Nightingale Women’s Club, Lotty decides it must be providence. She sees in Rose a soulmate who also needs a break from her monotonous everyday existence. Lotty proposes that they rent the castle and take a vacation just for themselves. As she explains to Rose: “I’ve been doing things for other people since I was eleven and I don’t feel any better for it.”

To defray the costs, they advertise for two other roommates. Only two women respond: Mrs. Fisher (Joan Plowright), a lonely, elderly woman who wants to “sit in the shade and remember better times” and Caroline Dester (Polly Walker), an attractive socialite tired of being relentlessly pursued by men.

During the month they share together in their lovely chateau surrounded by verdant splendor, these four women learn about each other, gain insight into themselves and their loved ones, and emerge with a new outlook on life. Perhaps everything works out too neatly in the end, but Enchanted April is a joyous, life-affirming film and there’s nothing wrong with that.

The cast is impeccable, with the four leading ladies receiving excellent support from Alfred Molina as Josie’s business-minded husband and Jim Broadbent as Rose’s feckless, but redeemable, husband. Michael Kitchen charmingly plays the owner of the castle, the visually-impaired George Briggs.

Equally impressive is Mike Newell’s subtle direction. The London scenes are photographed in drab, brownish tones, while the color seems to explode with brilliance when the action shifts to Italy. Newell also makes effective, constrained use of voiceovers that let us eavesdrop into each character’s thoughts.

Enchanted April was made for BBC television, but released theatrically in the U.S. Its source novel was first adapted for the screen in 1935, but I’ve never seen that version. This one is a film to be cherished.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Feel Good Movies: A Delightful Italian Neorealism Variation of Cinderella - "More than a Miracle" (1967)


I fell head over heels in love with this movie in 1967. I saw it 6 or 7 times, immersing myself into its charming and delightfully different reworking of the basic Cinderella tale. In Italy it was titled Cinderella Italian Style; however, a prince seeking a bride and a peasant girl longing for a better life are the only similarities to the original. The eclectic mix of fairy tale elements, including flying monks and an ancient sorceress, royal romantic intrigue, unexpected moments of comedy and drama, the charisma and lusty chemistry between Sophia Loren and Omar Sharif, a lovely musical score and sweeping vistas of the starkly beautiful Naples countryside proved to be a thoroughly soul-satisfying movie-going experience that did not diminish with multiple viewings.

More than a Miracle was the brainchild of Sophia Loren's husband, producer Carlo Ponti, who envisioned a film which would appeal to an international audience. Omar Sharif, whose star power had increased following his performance in Doctor Zhivago, was chosen to play the devastatingly handsome, but arrogant, Prince Rodrigo. Ponti's choice of director Francesco Rosi. however, was startling. His previous films, Salvatore Guiliano (1961) and Hands Over the City (1963) incorporated the Italian neorealism themes of social and political injustice created by the ever-increasing disparity between the classes, exemplified in the classics The Bicycle Thief and Umberto D. Amazingly, amidst the fantasy and magic, Rosi effectively applied the socioeconomic tenets of neorealism to the relationship between Sharif's prince and Loren's peasant girl, and the painfully obvious difference in their social status, which almost derails the requisite happily ever after ending.

The hoped-for happy conclusion of this fractured fairy-tale is attained after a series of unusual events triggered by Prince Rodrigo's failure to obey an order from the King of Spain to find a wife. He escapes from the meddling of his marriage minded mother, riding his magnificent white horse at breakneck speed, resulting in a tumble out of the saddle. He walks to a monastery where he gets advice from one of the friars about finding a wife and is offered a method of choosing the right one. While looking for his horse, he encounters the strong-willed peasant girl Isabella. He finds himself attracted to this earthy beauty and decides to subject her to the friar's test. It looks like she will fulfill the requirements when she makes a disqualifying mistake. Rodrigo is furious with her for not completing the task, and decides to punish her. His plan is to pretend he is dead and then disappear. The horrified Isabella acquires a spell to bring him back to life, but misreads the formula, resulting in an immobilized Rodrigo, his entire body frozen like a statue. Various bizarre concoctions are used in an attempt to counter the spell, including an ammonia-scented, warm yellow liquid. However, it takes a kiss from Isabella to release him from the curse. A revived Rodrigo wreaks his revenge on Isabella by locking her in a large wooden barrel and rolling it down a hill towards the sea; however, she is rescued by a a rag-tag gang of beach urchins. A repentant Isabella abandons the black arts and obtains a position in Rodrigo's household as a laundress, hoping to win his love on her own merits. She doesn't realize how close she is to attaining her goal as Rodrigo already harbors a deep affection for her, which soon evolves into the love of Isabella's dreams. Of course the issues of her lower class status and his mother's staunch opposition to such a union must be resolved. Rodrigo concocts what seems to be a perfect solution: He organizes a dish-washing contest among the 7 prospective brides and declares that he will marry the woman who breaks the least amount of dishes, knowing that their lily white hands have never come in contact with dish water. He disguises Isabella as a princess certain that she will be the winner and his bride. As predicted, Isabella is far ahead of the others, when inexplicably her dishes start to break in half. Her momentum is disrupted and she becomes increasingly frantic as the breakage continues to diminish her lead. She is ultimately defeated by a pampered aristocrat who had never worked a day in her life! Rodrigo is stunned and infuriated by this unexpected turn of events and publicly denounces Isabella, his rage blinding him to the possibility of sabotage. A despondent Isabella flees from Rodrigo's anger and contemplates drowning herself, but is convinced by the gentle friar from the monastery, now a saintly presence, to return to Rodrigo and reveal the conniving contest winner who used her diamond ring to weaken the stability of Isabella's stack of plates. The lovers are reconciled and their engagement is announced with much fanfare as they walk arm in arm through the crowd, aware of nothing except the love in each other's eyes.

In his TCM article on More than a Miracle, Jeffrey Stafford wrote:

“When More Than a Miracle opened theatrically, it was well received by most Italian film critics but failed to find an audience outside its own country. Maybe the mixture of flying monks and jousting tournaments and cackling witches and dishwashing contests (a major set piece towards the film’s climax) was just too eclectic for American moviegoers. Either that or sixties audiences felt they were too hip for an old-fashioned fairy tale. The Time magazine reviewer probably said it best: ‘That anybody would bother these days to make so slender and fanciful a film is a miracle in itself; to do it with such a profusion of visual beauty is More than a Miracle’ "(Stafford,TCM, Par. 4)
The fact that I had never considered myself even remotely hip may have been the reason I found comfort and joy in this "lost" (not available on VHS or DVD) component of Sophia Loren's filmography. Those who ignored this film robbed themselves of the opportunity to see Sophia's radiant and lighthearted performance and a chance to marvel at her incredibly vibrant beauty. I may have been an audience of one, but I was more than willing to suspend disbelief and bask in the whimsical glow of this enchanting film.

Monday, November 2, 2009

A Rebel Takes to the Dance Floor in "Strictly Ballroom"

Scott Hastings is a first-rate ballroom dancer with a problem: He’s a rebel with a cause—and his cause is to expand the boundaries of traditional dancing. Unfortunately, Scott’s goal doesn’t sit well with the Australian Dance Federation nor his dancing partner Liz.

When he gets “boxed in” during a competition, Scott lets loose with some energetic, flashy moves…and promptly gets disqualified. Even worse, Liz walks out on him just weeks before the most important dancing competition of the year—the Pan Pacifics—stating adamantly: “I won’t dance with you until you dance like you’re supposed to.”

Scott’s mother, who operates a small dance studio, is temporarily crushed. She immediately sets out to find a new partner for his son. Unknown to her, the ideal partner is one of her students, a shy inexperienced dancer named Fran. After class one night, Fran approaches Scott about dancing with him. Initially, he brushes her off, but Fran impresses him when she confides: “I want to dance with you—your way—at the Pan Pacifics.”

There is much to enjoy in Baz Luhrmann’s Strictly Ballroom (1992), which works as a quirky comedy, an unlikely romance, and a Cinderella story. At the heart of the film is the marvelous chemistry between leads Paul Mercurio (as Scott) and Tara Morice (as Fran). Ballroom should have done for the charismatic Mercurio what Dirty Dancing did for Patrick Swayze…but, alas, it didn’t. Still, he impresses in Strictly Ballroom, both on the dance floor and in the tender scenes with Morice. She shines , too, and offers a nice vocal on a cover of Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time.”

Indeed, Lauper’s song provides the background for one of my favorite scenes: a practice montage between Scott and Fran that has them dancing on the studio’s rooftop next to a glittering Coca-Cola sign. But then, fine scenes abound in Strictly Ballroom, as evidenced by a Pasodoble duel between Scott and another character—and a closing scene set to Paul Young’s “Love Is in the Air” that always leaves me with a smile.

There are few surprises in Strictly Ballroom, but that’s all right. It’s one of those movies where you can see where it’s headed and you look forward to getting there. And when it ends just the way you imagined, then you have that satisfying feeling inside. That, my film friends, is what a “feel good” movie is all about.