Dave
Staff member
I recently came upon a review for The Godfather from a critic named Stanley Kauffmann. In it he talks about how terrible Marlon Brando was and how Al Pacino's part was "too big for him".
(Full review here.)
So I started reading some of good ol' Stanley's other critiques and they are wonderful.
Raiders of the Lost Ark -
Full Metal Jacket -
(Full review here.)
So I started reading some of good ol' Stanley's other critiques and they are wonderful.
Raiders of the Lost Ark -
Forrest Gump -I won’t pretend that I got no thrills or tingly laughs out of Raiders, but the more it happened, the more it irritated me. (Bernard Shaw said it happened to him when he found himself laughing at certain comedies.) Raiders, as bruited, is the Saturday-afternoon serial in excel- sis. It was directed by Steven Spielberg (Close Encounters of the Third Kind), and one of the executive producers and authors was George Lucas (Star Wars)—two of the brightest young successes in Hollywood. But the more spectacular the sweep, the more stunning the special effects, the more ingenious the editing, the more my irritation grew until it toppled over into depression.
Psycho -I can’t see how people with low I.Q.s or those who love them are in any way comforted by all this hogwash. I can easily see how such people might be offended by its smug unreality.
Tom Hanks plays Forrest Gump, apparently because he wanted a role that would be as far off the beaten track as the one in his last picture, Philadelphia. Hanks is exceptionally gifted, and he plays Forrest well enough; but the role doesn’t call for anything like the variety and resource that Debra Winger needed—and had—for her comparable role in A Dangerous Woman.
Grease -Sons and Lovers might also be the title of Hitchcock’s new film Psycho, which is a suspense story dealing with a son (Anthony Perkins) and some lovers (Janet Leigh, John Gavin). This time Hitchcock has put his usual close-up face-nibbling sex scene at the very beginning, (as usual, it is quite dispensable) and then goes on to pad the first half of the picture for a reason that can’t b e revealed without giving away the twist. The whole thing is, in fact, much too long, and the plot is full of holes. (Why, in ten years, hasn’t someone from the town seen the old woman walking past the window of the house? Why does the girl’s sister insist, on such brief acquaintance that the private detective has not merely run off?) Two murders and a third attempt are among the most vicious I have ever seen in films, with Hitchcock employing his considerable skill in direction and cutting and in the use of sound and music to shock us past horror-entertainment into resentment.
Jaws -Insofar as it’s important enough to be called terrible, what’s terrible about it is its eagerness to make us feel superior to something, though it’s not quite sure what. It has no book to speak of. To put it another way, the book is unspeakable. The music goes in one ear and out the same ear. It has no kind of focus in atmosphere or tone, it doesn’t even have a look. It’s just sort of floating insult, shopping for a subject to light on.
Basically I've yet to find one that he liked. He's the real life Jay Shermann.[DOUBLEPOST=1479763626,1479763391][/DOUBLEPOST]Holy shit.The ads show a gaping shark’s mouth. If sharks can yawn, that’s presumably what this one is doing. It’s certainly what I was doing all through this picture, even in those few moments when I was frightened. There’s no great trick to frightening a person: anyone can do it by jumping out of a closet at you—which would be both tedious and irritating at the same moment that your heart skipped. Thus with the few scary moments in this film.
Full Metal Jacket -
The best that can be said of Full Metal Jacket is that there are traces of Stanley Kubrick in it. This, obviously, is also the worst that can be said of it. Kubrick’s new film, his first in eight years, is about the Vietnam War. After years of preparation in the hands of a man celebrated for his penetration and style, the picture adds almost nothing to our knowledge of its subject and adds it in a manner almost devoid of visual distinction.