The original Star Wars trilogy (Episodes 4,5 and 6)

Just recently I watched the first three Star Wars movies on DVD (that is, those originally released in the period 1977-1983), and it was fascinating to see what new perspectives and observations I developed, having not watched them for some little while.

I did not see the first film at the time when it was first released in 1977.  Instead, I saw it a couple of years later.  It was during the school holidays, and myself and my brother were showing signs of extreme boredom, when we discovered that it was showing locally. This delay in experiencing "Star Wars" may even have increased the effect it had on me.

The opening "scrolling screen" sequence, and the accompanying music, still sends shivers down my spine, I am happy to report. This time I was able to appreciate nuances of the plot and the characterizations, rather than simply being awed by the special effects. I had forgotten, for example, how much of the early going in "A New Hope" is taken up with the adventures of C3PO and R2D2. The versions which I watched recently were the Special Editions, but I did not feel that the changes made detracted that much from the original effect. The mystique was not tarnished.

Another thing which surprised me was just how much screen time Peter Cushing has in the first film. He, along with Alec Guinness, adds much gravitas to proceedings. It is also amazing how many well-known British actors pop up in all sorts of roles right across the trilogy.

Lots of parts of the first film are memorable or engrossing. The bizarre chess set on the Millennium Falcon, the scene in the garbage dump on the Death Star, and Luke's close encounter with the "Nessie"-like monster.

I kind of like "The Empire Strikes Back" more than the other two films. It has the benefit of having the "backstory" from the first movie to enrich it, and the major characters have become more established and familiar. Also, some "secondary" figures feature prominently, such as Yoda, Lando and Boba Fett. The ambiguities and quirks in the wider Star Wars firmament are brought out more, and this contributes to a darker tone.

The contrast and richness in the settings also makes "The Empire Strikes Back" formidable, from the early stages in the snow and ice of Hoth to the swampland where Luke finds Yoda. The parallel stories, of Luke and the rest, is another strong point. And of course the conclusion of the movie is riveting. This one feels like an episode in a TV sci-fi series.

Watching "Return of the Jedi" again, there was less that stood out for me, and I will confess that I have mixed feelings concerning this one. The extended presence of Jabba the Hutt and the Ewoks makes it tough to take it entirely seriously, although in fairness this means that it is different and distinct from its predecessors. The silliness is mixed with some fine action sequences, such as the speeder bikes and Lando's exploits with the Millennium Falcon. The inter-cutting between the locations is well done, and once again the climax is awesome. To my shame, I had utterly forgotten that Luke and Leia were revealed to be siblings!.

An aspect of the trilogy that I am reminded of is how some technology is portrayed as being benevolent in nature, mainly through the "human" characteristics of the droids C3PO and R2D2. Another interesting and attractive dimension is the heterogeneous character of the rebels, their informality and optimism contrasting with the regimentation and rigid conformity of the imperial people.

It has been pointed out that despite being space movies, these stories drew heavily on scenarios from other films and literature. The scenes on Hoth contained elements familiar from tales of polar exploration and derring-do, and of course Cantina is straight out of a classic Western.

I am glad that I watched these films again. They are always invigorating, and remind us of a time when mainstream cinema was allowed to be fun and escapist again. My recent experience may even persuade me to explore the three "prequels"....

Jaws

I was a little too young to get caught up in the original hysteria of 1975, but Steven Spielberg's Jaws remains an entertaining if slightly disturbing viewing experience.

 

 

One thing which I am reminded of when watching the DVD is the distinctive "aesthetic" of this movie. The light is baleful and gloomy. Whether this was intentional or not, it does accentuate the darkness and menace which pervades the movie. It is unsettling to watch, with little of the levity to be found in other works of this director. 

 

Another feature which stands out is the quintessentially mid-1970s look and feel, when one considers the fashions, hairstyles and overall cultural ambience. In this respect, Jaws is perhaps less "timeless" than some other Spielberg pictures.

 

I have not read Peter Benchley's book, on which the film is based, but it seems to me that the police chief Brody , played so ably by Roy Scheider, has some parallels with the Roy Neary character from Close Encounters Of The Third Kind. A conscientious, believable "everyman", who has to juggle his onerous professional responsibilities with those of being a husband and father. In making the Brody/Neary comparisons, of course, it is ironic that Richard Dreyfuss turns up here too, as the likeable oceanographer Hooper.

 

As well as depicting the havoc wrought by the dreaded shark, and the efforts to tackle it, this film also poses the odd moral or philosophical question, particularly those of commerce v safety, science v well-meaning amateurism, and bureaucracy v common sense. The world has changed in the past four decades, but these issues were very pertinent in the climate which prevailed in the mid-Seventies.

 

The chilling "shark attack" scenes are superbly inventive and well executed, with a perfect building-up of tension and suspense, and numerous minor"false alarm" scenarios to maintain the trepidation and anxiety. What is not seen on the screen, and merely implied, is as important and as potent as what is overtly displayed. The underwater shots are also presented with great finesse and impact, and who can forget the infamous "leg" shot....?

 

One of the more pleasing aspects of Jaws is the dialogue and rapport between Scheider and Dreyfuss. The latter is especially impressive and engaging in the scenes where he displays growing exasperation in his attempts to convince the local mayor of the gravity of the situation! The clash of cultures between the scientist and the grizzled Quint (magnificently portrayed by Robert Shaw) is great value too.

 

On my most recent viewing, my predominant sentiments revolved around the helplessness of man in the face of this unbridled force of nature. In the end, courage and ingenuity won the day, rather than technology or material plenty.

 

Jaws retains its capacity to enthral and disconcert........

 

 

 

 

Chariots Of Fire

A movie which I feel is somewhat forgotten nowadays is Chariots Of Fire, which recounts the exploits of two British athletes, Harold Abrahams and Eric Liddell, at the 1924 Olympic Games in Paris. To be honest, I had largely forgotten it myself until recently, when I dug out my DVD, and gave it another watch.

 

 

The stamp of quality is established in the early scene in which some of the athletes are seen running on a beach. It remains as beautiful and powerful a set of images now as it was over three decades ago, conveying the effort but also the nobility and purity of sport before the advent of professionalism and cynicism. 

 

It is significant, not to say poignant, that this film was released in the early 1980s, just as athletics, and Olympic sport in general, was at the dawn of its transformation to a more commercial, less innocent state. In stressing these "Corinthian" values however, it must also be emphasised that Chariots Of Fire explores these issues cleverly, and in a subtle manner. This is best exemplified by the scene where Abrahams is summoned to dinner with a couple of the "elders" of Cambridge University. He is taken to task for employing a "professional" coach, and for adopting a too single-minded and uncompromising approach. Abrahams' superb rejoinder was to tell his critics that he still adhered to admirable principles of honour and fairness, whilst also striving for absolute excellence. So, even in the 1920s, the dynamic of "traditional" and "modern" was not so clear-cut. It seems to me that the ethos expounded by Harold Abrahams is timeless and pretty hard to fault...

In general, I think that the sub-texts are dealt with in a subtle and adroit way. Eric Liddell's religious inclinations, and their impact on his running, are to a large degree couched in terms of universal human aspirations and concerns. Similarly, the conception of Abrahams as something of an outsider, in part because of his Jewish background, is addressed frankly but deftly, illustrating the social climate and prejudices of those times, and also how the sprinter channelled his frustrations and resentment into proving himself on the track. Some of the most revealing, if less ostentatious, scenes in the picture are the ones where the two athletes attempt to explain their motivations and mind-set to friends and relatives...

The acting is of a high order, but none of those in the major roles stands out to the extent of stealing the show;they are generally of equal ability. This may be one of the hidden secrets of the movie's appeal, allowing the script and the "situation" to stand largely by themselves. To my mind, Ben Cross has never received sufficient credit for his measured performance as Harold Abrahams. It must be added that the presence of Ian Holm and John Gielgud provides some gravitas and depth.

Chariots Of Fire is very English, but there is an unspoken feeling of the contradictions and tensions which had begun to pervade Englishness (and Britishness), in particular the increasing independence of thought of youth, and its reluctance to unquestioningly embrace the values and attitudes which had hitherto predominated - this was not long after World War One, remember. In some ways, it is surprising that this angle is not pushed more openly, although it is discernible just beneath the surface.

Much has been made of the odd liberty which was taken with historical fact, but let's face it, which "biopic" or similar project does not bend the real story to some extent?  It is refreshing to watch a film whose strength is in the writing, the acting and the story, and which does not rely on special effects or pushy moralizing. The memorable music of Vangelis complements the images perfectly, being both dignified and timeless.

To the 21st century audience, the action sequences may seen dated, but it can be argued I think that this film invented many of the clichés which have since become so commonplace! The slow-motion stuff does encapsulate vividly the strain, agony and drama of Olympic competition. Also, those types of shots are used sparingly.

Chariots Of Fire is that comparatively rare phenomenon, a "feel-good" movie which has an underlying thread of quality, and which also has some profound things to say....

 

 

 

 

 

Sink The Bismarck (movie)

War films were, not unnaturally, a staple of the output of the British movie industry in the 1950s and 1960s. Of these, one of the most affecting for me is Sink The Bismarck!, released in 1960, and starring Kenneth More. It tells the tale of the Royal Navy's campaign to sink the infamous German battleship. More plays the role of Captain Shepard, chief of operations at the Admiralty, who is tasked with co-ordinating the effort to find and eliminate the dangerous vessel.

 

 

British war pictures of this period tended to be distinctly "patriotic" in nature.  Sink The Bismarck! for me differs in largely suppressing these impulses, concentrating instead on the human aspects. It manages to encapsulate the terror of modern war, and Britain's still precarious position circa 1941.

Much of the movie is located in the subterranean operations room at the Admiralty, thus engendering a feeling of claustrophobia and tension. The sunlight of London is only seen at the beginning and the end of the picture. The menace instilled by, and embodied in, the Bismarck is palpable. This is also one of those films which just had to be made in black and white, as the monochrome accentuates the starkness of the scenario, and the austerity of wartime England.

There are some action sequences at sea, but these are largely subordinated to a portrayal of the dangers and cruelty of battle in the North Atlantic, and indeed war in general. Here this is generally undertaken succinctly and unostentatiously.

The film is held together by the fine performance of Kenneth More. The Shepard character is taciturn and disciplinarian, but also highly conscientious and capable. We see his more human side, when his son, a Navy pilot, briefly goes missing in action.

I feel that several topics are presented and highlighted by Sink The Bismarck!. Firstly, the apparent helplessness of individual human beings, whatever their level of experience, diligence and ability, in the face of a determined and well-equipped enemy, and in the face of superior technology. The tension between conventional scruples and the utter ruthlessness that is sadly sometimes required in desperate situations. The coolness and clarity of judgement required to deal with onerous responsibilities, and to make difficult, often fatal, decisions when resources are finite and stretched.

The depiction of the British naval command here is admirable, and largely eschews popular stereotypes. They were by and large able, stoical and humane people, often let down by the folly or neglect of their political masters, or by caprices outside their own control. Happily, this movie does
not resort to the tired and simplistic "lions led by donkeys" line....

One slightly jarring note is struck by the somewhat corny dialogue between the German fleet commander and his immediate subordinate, although it does not spoil the overall effect.

The ending is not sugar-coated or triumphalist, but low-key and quite matter-of-fact. In keeping with the underlying tone of the movie, in fact....

Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads?

Just recently, whilst seeking inspiration and emotional sustenance, I dug out my DVDs of "Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads", the classic BBC sitcom from the 1970s. The works of Dick Clement and Alan La Frenais are always a nice refuge, because of the depth and richness of their writing.

Apart from the quality of the scripts and the acting, the major strength of this show was its premise, Terry Collier returning from five years in the Army to find his best friend Bob Ferris immersed in his career, and on the verge of domestic bliss with Thelma. The tension and comic potential inherent in this scenario are harnessed to the full. However, it is the particular methods of the writers which created the real magic.

The humour is very British, but the subject matter is universal.  Much of the dialogue deals with the problems of leaving behind one's youth, and the conflicting attractions of domesticity, independence and carefree indolence. The show also examines issues of class, snobbery and social structures in a very natural and perceptive way, pointing out what really happens, not the version which tends to be projected by those with some axe to grind. The absence of preaching and moralizing is an advantage, and although contentious issues are not overlooked, they are not allowed to overshadow the levity.

A real asset of Clement and La Frenais' writing is the capacity to be honest and realistic about social mores and hang-ups, and to extract great and enduring comedy from it. Moreover, in addition to the laughs, the situation and the stories have the power to provoke reflection on the part of the viewer. The ground which is covered is that with which real people can identify, because it is rooted in everyday existence - social climbing, thwarted aspirations, nostalgia, family, friendships. This makes it timeless, like few other comedies of its era. Only the hairstyles and the fashions have dated!

The scripts are delightfully homely and organic, conveying the vitality, eccentricity and occasional absurdity of British life, its contradictions and foibles. Much of the material concentrates on the dichotomy between the less complicated worlds of childhood and young adulthood, and the practicalities and harsh but inescapable realities and responsibilities of being "grown up". Much of this is encapsulated in the episodes  "Storm in A Tea Chest" and "The Ant and the Grasshopper" - the battle to maintain a balance in the face of commitments, priorities and pressures.

The subject of friendship is also explored;its limitations, its virtues and its constraints, and how it evolves and becomes more complicated and occasionally burdensome.

If this wonderful show reminds me of anything these days, it is that whatever our idealism and nostalgia, the world of adult existence is one long series of compromises. Many of us either never fully embrace this, or realize it too late....