With the exception of a couple of experimental shorts using a process called “Phono-Cinéma-Théâtre” presented at the 1900 Paris Exhibition and, of course, the live piano/organ accompaniment prevalent in the silent era (which doesn’t really count), cinema was purely a visual medium for the first 37 years of its existence.
The Public Eye (1992, dir. Howard Franklin)Anyone who’s ever flipped through a Life magazine photo retrospective while sitting in a doctor’s waiting room most certainly has seen the work of Arthur Fellig, a photographer better known to the world by his nickname, Weegee.
It’s funny to think that something as inconsequential as one’s middle name could impact the probability of one’s genius, but it seems that that is exactly the case when it comes to the art of movie direction.
Take, for instance, George T. Miller, the Australian behind The Man from Snowy River (1982) and The NeverEnding Story II: The Next Chapter (1990).
Every hear of The Criterion Collection? No? Well, it’s the company I hold responsible for my crack-like addiction to the latest and greatest home video formats of the last 20 years. Founded back in 1984, The Criterion Collection entered the home video marketplace with a lofty but admirable goal, conveniently printed on each of its releases: “…to gather the greatest films from around the world and publishing them in editions of the highest quality.”
Back in 2004, director Steven Spielberg decided the time was ripe to remake the granddaddy of all hostile alien narratives, H.G. Wells’ The War of the Worlds, the 1898 serialized novel telling the story of a Martian invasion as seen through the eyes of an unnamed narrator based in Surrey and his younger brother, based in London. This would be quite a departure for
The other night my 12-year-old son roped me into the first 30 minutes of Return of the Jedi, director Richard Marquand‘s 1983 conclusion to George Lucas’ original Star Wars trilogy.
And while I could dedicate an entire post to the movie’s shortcomings (one word: Ewoks), I only want to mention a quick moment as a springboard to another topic altogether, a moment that will forever have me and my kids nodding at each other knowingly.
In the film Diner, writer-director Barry Levinson’s 1982 comedy about a group of friends in late-50s Baltimore, the character Edward “Eddie” Simmons (Steve Guttenberg) proves to be such a rabid Colts fan that, before he commits to walking down the aisle with his fiancé, he insists she pass a comprehensive examination on the history of Baltimore’s professional